“Maybe.” Hattie was unconvinced. Surely aqueen had a large family and many friends; she had people whodepended on her, people who loved her. Hattie had no family left,few friends, and not even a cat to come home to at night. Hercareer was herlife.
Tom sighed. “So, what’s this about imaginingthings?”
“Oh, don’t worry about it.” She waved herhand. “I imagined someone was watching me. Naturally, no one wasthere, no matter how quickly I turned around. I’ve been at it toolong, I guess. Or maybe I’ve seen The Mummy one too many times.”
He laughed and handed back the sketchbook.“What are you going to do about Hatshepsut’s face?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe a good night’s sleepwill give me more perspective.” She yawned hugely and stretched outher arms. “I don’t have any other ideas right now. I’m too tired tothink straight.”
Tom steepled his index fingers together andtapped them thoughtfully against his lips. “I have a suggestion. Wehave a necklace in our collection that’s reputed to have belongedto Hatshepsut. It isn’t being displayed currently, but I’d be gladto show it to you. Maybe it would help you to put a human face on alegend. What do you say?”
“Why not? It might do the trick.”
Hattie followed Tom down another dimly litcorridor to a room marked “Egyptian Artifacts”. He opened the doorand turned on the overhead light, then ushered her in.
She glanced around in dismay. The room lookedlike an oversized closet—windowless, dusty, and cluttered withstorage cabinets. It was enough to make anyone claustrophobic. Tomstrode to one of the cabinets, opened a drawer, and removed alarge, flat box. He placed the box gently on a small table andremoved the lid.
Hattie gasped and her breath caught in herthroat. Nestled in a protective bed of acid-free paper, a pectoralnecklace glittered and sparkled in the muted light of the loneoverhead bulb. Row upon row of turquoise, lapis lazuli, gold andcolored glass beads formed the outspread wings for the centralfigure of a falcon, fashioned entirely of gold with inset eyes ofgreen jasper. Inscribed hieroglyphics covered the body of the bird.Delicate golden links held the broad, flexible collar together.
“Oh, Tom,” she whispered. “It’s the mostbeautiful thing I’ve ever seen!”
Tom grinned. “I thought you’d like it. Do youthink it’ll help?”
“Yes. Definitely!” she said, her fatigueevaporating like mist in the morning sun. “Can I bring it out tothe exhibit room?”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” he said. “Eventhough the museum’s closed, I think it’s safer if it remains herein this room. Out there, I’d have to lock it away in a displaycase.” He spread his hands apologetically. “Can you work here? Iknow it’s a little crowded.”
“Of course.” Hattie nodded emphatically. “Iunderstand. Just give me an hour, and I should be finished.”
Tom glanced at his watch. “I can’t wait thatlong. I’ve got to go. I have a dinner meeting with the museum boardof directors in forty-five minutes.” He paused. “I’ll tell youwhat. I’ll lock the employee entrance on my way out. The museumclosed fifteen minutes ago, and all the other doors are locked. Youcan take as long as you like, but put the necklace back in thecabinet when you’re through, and make sure the employee door locksbehind you when you leave. And don’t forget to turn out thelights,” he added, winking.
“Perfect! Will do, boss.” Hattie salutedsmartly.
Tom laughed, then left her alone. As soon ashis footsteps died away, she flipped open her sketch pad to a cleanpage and set it on the table next to the necklace. Before she triedagain to imagine Hatshepsut’s features, she wanted to make adetailed drawing of the collar.
Within half an hour, she had the broadoutlines of the necklace faithfully reproduced on the paper.Yawning, she laid her pencil beside the tablet. Even the beauty ofthe necklace couldn’t keep her awake forever. Maybe it was time tocall it a day. She could duplicate the intricate hieroglyphstomorrow.
No sooner had she decided to quit than theback of her neck prickled, and a warm breeze stroked her cheek. Notagain! She whipped around, determined to catch the furtive watcherthis time. Her left arm hit the partially open door, which promptlyslammed shut.
Hattie reached for the doorknob and turnedit, giving the door a jerk. It remained firmly closed. She jiggledthe knob and pulled on it, but it was quite obviously locked.“Great!” she muttered. “Just what I need. I wonder how long thatmeeting of Tom’s will last?”
Her mouth dropped open as a horrible thoughtoccurred to her. What if Tom didn’t return after the meeting? Whatif he went straight home? “Tomorrow’s Sunday,” she reminded herselfgrimly. “I might be stuck here in this…this broom closet for twodays!” There was no one at her apartment to miss her or report herabsence—not even a dog to bark and alert the neighbors.
Hattie banged on the door. “Is anyonethere? Let me out!” She shouted and beat on the door with herpalms, but all was ominously silent. If someone had been watching her, they had no intention ofhelping her out of her dilemma.
At last, resigned to her fate, she returnedto her sketchpad. “If I’m going to be stuck in here, I might aswell finish my work,” she murmured. “Tom’s bound to come back—I’msure he will.” Her voice echoed unconvincingly in the dusty,claustrophobic room.
Picking up her pencil, she focuseddeliberately on copying the tiny hieroglyphics with extremeprecision. Gradually, she became absorbed in her work and forgother predicament. Minutes flowed by with the only sound in the roomthe scratching of her pencil on the paper.
At last, she completed the final symbol onher detailed drawing and set down her pencil with a twinge ofdisappointment. She was curiously drawn to the glitteringpossession of the ancient, yet strangely modern woman. Hatshepsuthad ruled Egypt fifteen hundred years before Christ, at a time whenwomen were considered no more important than servants or dogs. Howhad she managed it?
The vagrant breeze whispered past her faceagain, leaving a whiff of exquisite perfume in its wake. A rustle,like the caress of
